Faraway
by simplyleah
Summary: Summary: When a young princess Isabella saves a beggar boy from being put out on the streets to die by her father, the King, she didn't expect, years later, to fall in love with that same boy-Edward Mason. New story! 8/22 Review if you think I should continue or take it down. Bella/Edward. AU, AH, a bit OOC


**I got an idea for this one today in class, and couldn't stop myself from writing it down-this is what it turned into. I'm really enjoying it so far-I've never written something like this before-so I'd love to keep on writing it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer for entire story: I do not own Twilight nor am I Stephenie Meyer, but I do own this story, plotline, and any original characters that show up along the way.**

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** Chapter One**

My father had always been a fair king. He was prideful in his work, but did not abuse his power. When traveling through the kingdom, he was always sure to greet farmers and peasants alike with the respect they deserved. He supported the peace of our regions and took care to listen to all requests made by not only our own subjects, but those who merely wandered through. He took care to treat our servants and maids kindly, although they were punished when warranted. The public discoveries of his various brief affairs were taken in stride. He did not kill a man without cause; he did not make threats without reason. He dealt with neighboring kingdoms and their governments politely, and there was no war. He respected my mother, as much as women could be respected, and, I daresay, loved her. He treated my eldest brothers, his bastard sons, much as he treated me. He was a kind man.

This is why, when the situation of Edward Mason aroused, I was surprised.

As the story goes—or, more precisely, as my dressing maid told me—Edward Mason had been living in the stables for weeks. How he'd gone unnoticed, no one was certain. The cook had been the first to make claims; fruit sometimes went missing, or vegetables, but at the start he'd just assumed it had been my brothers and I up to our standard tricks. Unfortunately, when an entire rucksack of grains had gone missing, he was made to report the incident to my father's hand, who had then reported the incident to my father, the king himself.

Emmett had been called in first, which was warranted; of us three, he was the most likely to cause trouble. At twelve, he was also the oldest. Jasper and I had crouched down low near the throne room's impressive doors, listening as Emmett vehemently argued that he had _not taken from the kitchen. _My father sighed dramatically, the way he was often prone to sigh, and told my eldest brother to leave the room, and to return with Jasper on his arm.

And so Jasper had been questioned, but neither had he stolen from the kitchen. I was sure of it, just as I'd been sure that Emmett hadn't. The three of us were hardly apart, and the only tricks we did on our own were the ones we did on each other. I was the last to be brought to my father, and at the age of eight, the stairs before the throne were quite the feat.

But I was my father's favorite, and when I stepped up before him, prepared to throw my arms around his neck as I usually did, I was surprised by the stern expression he wore.

"What is it, Papa?" I'd exclaimed. "I didn't do it, I swear, Papa."

His thick, dark eyebrows arched sharply. He regarded me with an expression that I only saw when it was clear that I was in trouble.

"Papa!" I said. "I did not, I promise. You told us not to enter the kitchen without Miss Esme, and so we do not!"

Papa sighed. "Is that so, my darling?"

"Yes, it is!"

He pursed his lips. "Well, then. I suppose it is so." And he opened his arms wide. I launched myself at him, and he put his warm, large hands on my neck at the same moment that I wrapped my arms around his waist. He kissed my cheeks and sent me on my way, a new sweet from a faraway region in my pocket.

It wasn't until later that day that one of our stable boys found Edward Mason asleep in the hay barrels, a bag of grains at his feet. Word spread like wildfire—maids whispered that he was a spy from another kingdom, servants told one another that he was yet another bastard of the King. My governess, Miss Esme told me not to concern myself which such nonsense; it was just a boy, and nothing more.

But after my supper, Jasper and I made our way to the throne room once more, where we believed father was speaking to the so-called Edward Mason. This was the most exciting thing to happen since father had stumbled upon a river mare on a visit to an old friend and had managed to capture it.

"Do you hear anything?" Jasper asked me, his ear practically pressed to the fine wood. I moved closer to him, listening hard.

I shook my head. "No," I whispered. "Nothing."

We both jumped back when, moments later, the double doors began to open, three of my father's men dragging a small boy behind them. Edward Mason, to be sure.

Miss Esme had been right. He was just a boy, not much older than me. His hair was dirty and his clothes torn; they were much too large for his thin frame, and one of his eyes was just beginning to purple. Papa was standing in the now-empty throne room, watching Jasper and I with narrow eyes.

"Papa!" I shouted. "Papa, what are you doing with him?"

"Princess," one of the men leading Edward Mason warned. "The king is in one of his moods," he whispered. I recognized him as one of the men who often accompanied my mother and I out of the castle.

I set my mouth in a frown and strode up to my father. "Papa, stop it. Tell me where they are taking him."

The men were frozen in the doorway; Edward Mason watched me with wide eyes, and my fingers brushed my trousers self-consciously. Around the castle, Mama let me dress as I pleased, but outside the grounds I was made to dress like a lady; the same went for when guests arrived. Trousers aren't proper for girls. Papa always disagreed with it, but he sought to avoid quarrels with my mother and let it be.

I took my father's hand and tugged. "Papa!"

He looked down at me, and I can see what the man had warned me of: he was not happy, not in a good mood. But I stood my ground.

"Tell me, Papa. Where are they taking him?"

He cleared his throat. "To the dungeon," he said. "Until I decide where to dispose of him." The contempt in his voice startled me.

Edward Mason was watching us interact with mild curiosity. I forced myself to look away.

"Papa, I don't want you to hurt him."

"Darling, don't argue with me," my father said, and I could hear that this was no request. It was an order. "This is not a matter for young girls like yourself."

"Papa, please. I don't have many friends here, and he is my age. He can work as a stable boy, or a servant. He can be my friend." I'm pulling at straws. My father would not hurt a boy the same age as his own daughter. He would not throw this boy on the streets to starve to death. Would he?

Papa looked at me closely. "Do you truly wish for this, Isabella? To befriend a thief?"

I crossed my arms on my chest. "Please, Papa."

He let out a heavy breath through his nose and looks over at Edward Mason. "Edward Mason, is it?" he says.

The boy nods sharply.

Papa sighs again and turns to the man who spoke to me before. "Send him to Carlisle. Have a bed set up for the boy with the rest of the stable men." My father wrinkles his nose. "And bathe him." He mutters something under his breath and waved off the men.

"Yes, Your Majesty," they intoned, and headed off.

Papa glanced over at me. "I hold you accountable, Isabella, if he steals from us again. That boy is your responsibility now. Understood?"

I nodded. "Yes, Papa. Thank you."

He leaned down to kiss me on the head, and waved Jasper over. My brother seemed to be in awe.

"My son," our father said, clasping his hand on Jasper's shoulder. "I hold _you _accountable for your sister. I am beginning to believe she will be more trouble than young Emmett."

Jasper smiled shyly. "Yes, Papa. I am beginning to believe so myself."

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**If you could, I'd love some reviews. I need to know whether or not I should continue this story or if it's an epic failure and I should just take it down! Let me know your thoughts. **

**Yours truly, **

**Leah**


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